


Andromeda

by 420sechan



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Borderline Personality Disorder, ChanSoo - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Excruciatingly Slow Burn, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Relationship(s), Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Romance, SeHo - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smoking, Swearing, They live in France, bi!chanyeol, everyone is about the same age, kaisoo (kinda? not really), kyungsoo is closeted / in denial, kyungsoo smokes a lot, music major!chanyeol, pretty much everyone smokes cigarettes and its gross i know but they live in france so, seho on the side, sociology major!kyungsoo, stoner!chanyeol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/420sechan/pseuds/420sechan
Summary: "I think I'm just a narcissist.""Maybe.""So you don't disagree?""You keep looking for yourself in other people, Kyungsoo. What else would you call it?"In which Kyungsoo is plagued by ghosts of memories past, and Chanyeol is having none of it.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. track 1, space song

He was having his first cigarette in his new apartment, standing there at his French balcony, overlooking the port. The wind kept blowing the ashes back into his living room, no matter how far he leaned out. The seagulls were particularly angry this evening, screaming and crying out during the glowy hours of dusk.

“Kyungsoo, are you even listening to me?”, his mom suddenly said on the phone, interrupting her previous tirade about how he needs to start properly taking care of himself. 

He had put his phone in his pocket, lest it fell out of his shaky hands and right onto the sidewalk below, and he was half-heartedly listening to his mom berate him over the speakers. Blowing out the last bit of smoke left in his lungs, Kyungsoo tossed the finished cigarette butt in the coffee cup he abused as an ashtray and grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Well, what do you think, then?”

“I think you are right. I will get my shit together, I promise.”

His mother sighed, resignation in her voice. “I know you are not lazy. You just need to figure out those demons in your head. You have so many opportunities, there should be no reason for you to be depressed.”

He knew it came from a good place, but he didn’t want to hear it again.

“Yeah, I know. I am grateful.” 

“Alright.”

“Well, I’m going to hang up now.” He quickly exchanged goodbyes with his mother, before tossing the phone on his bed and turning back to look out the window. 

Admittedly, it was an ugly city. An ugly city somewhere in France, so unknown that there would be no point to even mention it by name. It was an ugly, atrocious city; humid, noisy, and grey. Even now, towards the end of August, the sun wasn’t shining. The clouds seemed to be hanging over the city constantly mocking him. He visited the university campus today, a single and classy building made of glass and steel, and went for a walk around the inner city. It took him less than an hour to see most of it, and it baffled him how such a small place could be considered a city at all. And yet, Kyungsoo didn’t mind. He didn’t speak French and, needless to say, the city was a huge downgrade from Seoul, but that didn’t bother him. He was so far away from everything that held him back, everything that weighed his soul down. He was far enough to be allowed to completely be himself. 

Right? 

He picked his phone back up and decided to update Jongin on how everything was going. Jongin was a year younger than him and finishing up his high school diploma back in Seoul. They became best friends three years ago through absurd circumstances and events, including a trip to Malaysia, a mutual friend and alcohol poisoning, and had been inseparable ever since, spending all of their free time together sitting at the river, sharing books they were reading, sneaking cigarettes, and listening to Joy Division. Jongin loved Joy Division. And Kyungsoo was more than happy to listen to him talk about their music. Those were the moments he cherished the most, when it was just them two, listening to Jongin’s playlist. With him, he felt whole; Jongin didn’t pressure him to be someone he wasn’t, he was fully accepting of him and his quirks. They saw the world in the same way, agreed on the fundamentals, yet disagreed enough to keep things interesting. Nobody made him laugh like Jongin did. 

It started at the beginning of the year that Kyungsoo suspected that there may be more on his part than just friendship that he felt for the other. Actually, it probably started from the first day they met, but it wasn’t until this year that Kyungsoo perceived it as a problem. He suppressed his feelings as best as he could; Kyungsoo would never risk losing his best friend over silly feelings. He would rather live in anguish than ruin everything and lose the person most important to him. Kyungsoo was convinced that there was no one but Jongin for him; but those feelings scared him to death, gave him nightmares, and, in short, he figured it was best to just lock them up and pour them into art, instead of burdening his friend. After all, Jongin was younger too - how irresponsible would it be of Kyungsoo to unload all of that sentimentality on him? 

Kyungsoo snapped Jongin a photo of his vinyl collection that he had taken out of the moving boxes and distributed neatly on the shelf. He made sure the Joy Division vinyl was visible. Kyungsoo knew that it wasn’t healthy to seek validation from Jongin on everything he did. He knew that he could not artificially keep the same connection to Jongin over this long distance. That didn’t prevent him from trying, though. 

Sighing, Kyungsoo went back to his balcony and lit another cigarette. He opened Facebook and saw a pending invitation that had been sent to him by the student council of the university. “Integration Bar Night!”, it read. It was a gathering for freshmen to meet other students, especially older ones. Over thirty people already answered with “Going”, and he flicked through the list of students, intrigued to see whom he would spend his college years with. It was a very diverse group of people; despite it being a French university, it offered many courses in English, attracting students from all over the globe. Without a second thought, he started sending friend requests to all of them. He checked the time, and he had just over an hour before the event started. Kyungsoo decided to go, not without pregaming a bit on his own, though. 

* * *

Kyungsoo arrived at the bar slightly tipsy, though fully functioning. He was just tipsy enough to be able to engage in conversations with over thirty strangers that he would be meeting tonight. He ordered a mojito at the counter and then walked onto the large patio of the bar, and immediately spotted all the other students. The atmosphere was bubbly, loud and full of smiles; everyone was excited to share how their summers went, where they were from, what they were majoring in. Kyungsoo, too, spoke to a lot of them; constantly moving from group to group, introducing himself and being more extroverted than usual. In between conversations, he would stop at the counter and get his mojito refills. By the time he held his fifth drink in his hands, he was talking to two sophomore girls who were, like him, majoring in sociology. 

“Honestly, the campus is quite small, and we’re not that many students as you’d expect of a university, but it’s still a lot of fun,” said one of them. Her name was Maya, and she was from South Africa. She was one of the first students Kyungsoo noticed; she had a breath-taking smile and shiny curls that bounced with her every movement, giving her a kind, charming aura. Her friend, Seulgi, was nodding a lot, smiling at Kyungsoo.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll love it. Especially because our major has the most fun. We have the best of both worlds, really, we’re smart, but we also play hard,” she giggled. 

“Sociology majors having the most fun? Absolutely not,” suddenly someone interjected. “It’s political science where things go down.” A tall, dark-haired guy joined their circle and shot Seulgi a grin. “Sociology is kind of like the dumb cousin of political science.”

Maya sighed theatrically. “Oh please, not you again. Don’t corrupt the freshers with your propaganda,” she said, giving the dark-haired boy an unimpressed look. 

“Political science is a lot more fun, babe, trust me, don’t listen to her. Transfer while you can,” he now turned to Kyungsoo. He felt himself become intrigued by this easy-going boy; his voice was soft and playful.

“Political science is more fun? And why is that? All you do is get drunk and then terrorize people with Marxist theory, Sehun,” Seulgi said, dramatically rolling her eyes and holding back a smile. The boy, now known to Kyungsoo as Sehun, jokingly winked at him, and took a sip from his beer. 

“I am just passionate about Marx. After all, he saw beyond the superficial materialism and exploitative structures-”

“Oh god, Sehun, enough,” Seulgi groaned, playfully shoving Sehun and earning a loud, heart-warming laugh from him in return. 

“So, why are you taking sociology?” Sehun asked Kyungsoo after they had formally introduced each other. 

“I, um, well, I like knowing how society works,” Kyungsoo said, immediately regretting his answer. Sehun’s lips curled up in an ironic smile and he opened his mouth to give yet another cheeky answer, but Kyungsoo continued: “As in, I want to understand how we can progress as people and how we express ourselves. You know, sexuality, gender theory, family structures. You get it.”

Sehun nodded along approvingly, when his eyes suddenly lit up. “Gender theory? Are you taking the class by Professor Despraux?”

Kyungsoo nodded.

“That’s sick! We’ll be taking it together, then,” Sehun said, excitedly shaking Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “I’m enrolled in it too.” Kyungsoo retaliated with words of approval, and both of them continued talking about their favorite works in gender theory. At one point, Kyungsoo felt a wave of nostalgia, as his conversation with Sehun reminded him of those he would have with Jongin. But Sehun wasn’t Jongin. 

“Hey, the bar is closing soon,” Sehun said, pulling Kyungsoo out of his sentiments and motioning towards the slowly dispersing crowd. Kyungsoo didn’t even realize it had been that long. 

“My roommate invited a few people over for a small after party, though. Do you want to come?”

Kyungsoo nodded enthusiastically, ignoring the mojitos cruising through his bloodstream. “That sounds cool, sure! Who’s your roommate?” Kyungsoo looked around the students still lingering around the bar, not recognizing one that he hadn’t at least briefly talked to tonight. 

“Oh, he isn’t here. He doesn’t enjoy crowds. He thinks there’s nothing organic about talking to so many people at once, or something like that. I don’t know,” Sehun waved it off laughing, “he’s great though. You’ll get along well. Now, let’s grab Seulgi and some other people and head out, I need to meet someone on the way.”

* * *

When Kyungsoo entered Sehun’s shared apartment, he was immediately greeted by a large red poster of Mao Zedong hanging right next to the entrance. 

“Wow,” he whispered, earning a slight laugh from Sehun, who was taking off his shoes right behind him. 

“He’s the third roommate. Chanyeol doesn’t like him, but I don’t care. It’s hilarious as fuck to me.”

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo asked, the alcohol in his system preventing him from adding one and one together.

“Present,” a deep voice said from down the hall, and Kyungsoo whipped around. A boy, just slightly taller than Sehun and with dyed silver hair, was poking his head out of a room at the end of the hallway. He was looking Kyungsoo curiously up and down, before shifting his attention to the other few people behind Sehun, who had decided to join the get together. 

His eyes were big and warm, though they didn’t regard Kyungsoo with lots of interest, and his voice silky and slightly husky. Before Kyungsoo could introduce himself, Chanyeol walked out of his room and past Kyungsoo into what appeared to be the shared living room.

“Did you get it?”, Chanyeol asked across his shoulder, raising his eyebrow at Sehun. 

“Yes, I did,” Sehun nodded, pulling a small package wrapped in cellophane from his jacket. So this must be what he got from the person he so mysteriously met on the way here. Chanyeol nodded, and went about setting up a bong on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Judging from the way people were moving about this apartment, Kyungsoo concluded that him and two other guys named Mark and Johnny were the only freshmen here. 

The living room was dark and gloomy, the only light coming from a weakly glowing chain of fairy lights that was sloppily attached to the wall using tape. Two couches were arranged around the low coffee table, and there seemed to be a balcony here. Kyungsoo saw it and almost sighed in relief. The amount of unknown people around him and bubbly noises suddenly made him feel overwhelmed. He searched for Sehun and found him sitting on the couch, excitedly talking and gesturing overtly.

“Hey, is it cool if I have a smoke out on the balcony?”, Kyungsoo asked him, pointing towards the door. Sehun simply nodded and gave him an approving wave, far too involved in conversation with another guy Kyungsoo didn’t know. Sehun seemed to be completely occupied by this boy, though; his eyes dilated with enthusiasm and smile bright. Kyungsoo snaked through the small crowd around the room and finally reached the balcony. He opened the door, and a wave of cool, fresh night air engulfed him. 

He was alone on the balcony, and he was glad about it. It felt like he could finally take a break to breathe and collect his thoughts. Even though he met great people today, talking and socializing was exhausting. Also, the numerous drinks were really taking their toll on his alertness. Kyungsoo sat down on one of the plastic chairs and fumbled around his pockets for his pack of Camel Lights. He picked up the ashtray from the floor and pulled a lighter from his pocket. Kyungsoo had just lit the cigarette and exhaled the first puff, when the balcony door suddenly opened again. Expectantly, Kyungsoo whipped around, praying it would be someone he had already talked to. Instead, he was met by the same intriguing pair of big, curious eyes from before. 

Chanyeol closed the door behind him and gave Kyungsoo a sheepish look, before sitting down on the other chair. 

“Ew, you still smoke cigarettes? In this economy?”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth and lowered his cigarette in embarrassment. 

“I, well,” he started, looking at the filled ashtray in his hands. He hadn’t seen Sehun smoke, and the fact that Chanyeol came out here in the first place meant that he smoked, too, didn’t it? 

“Don’t you smoke as well?”

“Smoke what?”, Chanyeol asked cheekily and leaned back in the plastic chair. He turned his body directly towards him, so his entire attention was on Kyungsoo. Chanyeol’s face was obscured, but the weak lights from inside illuminated his cheeks and silver hair, making him seem breath-takingly attractive, but also incredibly intimidating. He was taller and bigger than Kyungsoo, and having this boy’s full attention on him made Kyungsoo squirm awkwardly in his seat. Chanyeol kept his gaze on Kyungsoo for what felt like an eternity, before laughing it off.

“I don’t smoke cigarettes, that’s for sure.”

“But the ashtray is full of Marlboro butts.” Chanyeol looked up at Kyungsoo in theatrical shock, and extended his slim, elegant hand to grab the ashtray from Kyungsoo, his fingers brushing over his ever so lightly. Kyungsoo tensed up at the contact and cursed himself for it right away. 

“Mmh. Correct”, Chanyeol said after inspecting the contents of the ashtray. “Probably Seulgi’s.” 

Kyungsoo nodded and was waiting for Chanyeol to ask him the same generic questions that he had been answering the entire evening already. Where are you from? How old are you? What’s your major? How do you like it so far? 

But he didn’t ask any of that. Inside, someone put on music, and only then Kyungsoo realized how awfully quiet it had been outside on the balcony. Chanyeol pulled a weird-looking cigarette from his pocket. He lit it, and the air around them filled with thick, unpleasant smoke. Kyungsoo didn’t recognize the smell at first, though he figured what it must be. His heart started beating fast, and he became nervous for some reason. It was just weed, he reminded himself. No need for panic. It won’t kill you. 

Kyungsoo felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He checked the notification. Snapchat from Jongin. Eagerly, he unlocked his phone, completely forgetting about Chanyeol’s presence and the thick vapor around him. Jongin had sent nothing but a black screen and the word “nice” on it. Something pained Kyungsoo about Jongin’s lazy and dismissive answer, and he felt his ecstatic mood drop. 

“Not a talker, are you now?” Chanyeol said suddenly, taking deep drags from the joint. Kyungsoo looked up from his phone and quickly tucked it away, apologizing to Chanyeol.

“Just nervous. And tired. I did a lot of talking today,” Kyungsoo said truthfully, lighting yet another cigarette for himself. Chanyeol nodded understandingly, letting out a small laugh. Kyungsoo noticed that Chanyeol’s eyes became wrinkly when he did. He felt a warm wave of affection for this stranger flood over him. 

“I feel that. That’s why I didn’t go in the first place. I don’t do well when there are so many people, especially when everyone is so excited to be finally grown and in college. No offense,” he added, giving Kyungsoo a playfully apologetic smile. Kyungsoo, too, felt himself smile. Perhaps the first time tonight that it came naturally. 

“None taken.”

Chanyeol flicked the joint and watched the ash descend to the balcony floor. Once again, he reached his hand out to Kyungsoo, offering him the joint. 

“Oh, no, thanks. I am quite drunk.” Chanyeol nodded defeatedly and continued smoking it himself. Kyungsoo regretted his answer, he _did_ want to try it, but not right now. They sat in silence, listening to their inhales and exhales of poisonous smoke. The music inside was dulled, but Kyungsoo recognized the song, it was one of his favorites. Space Song by Beach House.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Chanyeol asked into the silence, tilting his head slightly to look at Kyungsoo. His eyelids were slightly hooded and his eyes dark, unfocused, yet persistent and piercing. 

Kyungsoo whispered his name, trying not to stare at Chanyeol too intently. Chanyeol took the last drag and smothered the joint. He turned to Kyungsoo as he started to get up. 

“Well, Kyungsoo, I’ll see you around campus then.” He gave him a small wave of his graceful hand and opened the door to go back inside.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo choked out. “Who’s controlling the music?” 

Chanyeol stopped in his tracks, most of his body already inside the living room. He poked his head back out, the same sheepish grin on his lips. “Oh, that’s my playlist.”


	2. track 2, dayzed inn daydreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, as you might have noticed, each chapter corresponds to a song. chapter 2 is dayzed inn daydreams by ariel pink.

A few days after the integration night, Kyungsoo was talking to Jongin on the phone. 

“I’m just so excited to start going to lectures and learning about things I actually care about, you know,” Kyungsoo rambled, scrolling through the syllabus for his introductory sociology course that had been sent to him by the professor. “I’m so excited to be surrounded by intelligent people.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Jongin said at the other end of the line. He wasn’t saying much today, and was rather allowing Kyungsoo to share his thoughts freely. 

“How have you been, though?” Kyungsoo asked, feeling bad for not inquiring about his best friend’s life. 

“It’s been alright,” Jongin sighed. “I’m over it. Just want to be done with high school, you know?” Kyungsoo nodded along, daydreaming about how great it could be if Jongin was here with him. He missed him a lot, his other half was across the globe, still stuck in the same city he’d always lived in. 

“I understand. Only a few more months to go. Have you given any thought to where you want to go?”

“I was thinking of going to Berlin, actually.”

“For photography?”

“Yes. I think that could be fun.”

Kyungsoo was excited for Jongin. He respected and cherished him as an artist, and knowing that Jongin realized his talent and wanted to pursue photography academically made his heart swell with pride for his best friend. “Definitely. And it’s so close to France, too!” 

“Haha, yes, true.” Jongin’s laugh sounded awkward and forced, the sound of it stinging in Kyungsoo’s heart. He chose to ignore it once again. Yet another break of silence occupied the phone call. Kyungsoo could hear Jongin move around his apartment. 

“Have you read the book I gave you yet?” Kyungsoo asked suddenly, hoping Jongin would say yes. 

“Um, which one? You left me a few.”

“ _To the Lighthouse._ Have you read it?”

“Oh. No, I haven’t. I will though, don’t worry.” Kyungsoo nodded, knowing perfectly well Jongin couldn’t see him. He understood that this wasn’t a big deal. And yet, he felt hurt that Jongin hadn’t read the books he recommended to him. In the past, he always did. Now, suddenly, he wasn’t reading the books he gave him anymore. He tried to convince himself that maybe Jongin just didn’t have time at the moment. He was probably busy. 

Kyungsoo’s mind was racing, and he felt himself start to overthink completely. He hated himself every time this happened; no matter how hard he tried, he could never stop himself from completely over-analyzing and dissecting every interaction, every change in Jongin’s voice. The tiniest details he would remember and replay in his head, trying to make sense of it all. It made him insane, and yet he couldn’t stop. He needed Jongin to miss him, he needed Jongin to need him as much as he needed him. 

Jongin pulled Kyungsoo out of his ponderings. “Well, Kyungsoo, I need to go.”

“Oh?” Kyungsoo checked the time. It was 09:25pm in Seoul. “Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting a friend, just hanging out,” Jongin replied. The lack of details bothered Kyungsoo. Who could Jongin possibly be meeting at this time, on a Sunday especially? And why was he not saying the name of the person? 

“Which friend? Do I know them?”

“It’s Taemin.”

Kyungsoo felt like he had been hit in the face. Taemin. He recounted the numerous times that Jongin would rant about Taemin, calling him shallow and naive. Why was he hanging out with him now? And why did Kyungsoo feel betrayed? 

“I thought you didn’t like Taemin. I remember you calling him superficial.”

“Ah, well, funny story, we were at the same party last weekend, and we sort of started talking. Turns out he’s not superficial at all, so we’re gonna meet and go for a walk. Maybe grab dinner somewhere in Hongdae.”

Jongin never went to parties. No matter how often Kyungsoo had tried to convince him to join him at a party, he always declined. He always said it made him anxious, and Kyungsoo understood. Why was he suddenly going to parties? 

Kyungsoo swallowed his disdain. “Oh, that’s great.”

“Yeah. Well, take care. Have fun tomorrow.” Jongin didn’t wait for an answer before hanging up. Kyungsoo sat back in his chair, tossing his phone on his desk. He sat there in silence for a short while, replaying the conversation with Jongin in his head. Hearing his voice always filled his heart with so much love and adoration, he felt like it could burst. And it was slowly killing him that Jongin didn’t feel the same way. Kyungsoo looked at the posters he had put up on his wall. One of them was a print of Gustav Klimt’s painting _The Kiss_ , a poster that Jongin had given to Kyungsoo as a gift on his 18th birthday. He was staring at it now, his hands trembling. How could Jongin give him gifts like this, yet only see him as a friend? 

Kyungsoo felt himself spiraling again. His phone lit up with a message notification. It was his mother. Kyungsoo sighed and ignored it. He didn’t have the energy to pretend everything was okay at this moment. Instead, he walked over to his record player, and put on an album by Ariel Pink. He grabbed his Camel Lights and went to his window to smoke. It was a warm, humid day, but the sky was grey as ever. He was conflicted again. On one hand, this opportunity, moving away, and living alone, surrounded by new people, should make him happy. It was a fresh start. He was allowed to be himself, unconditionally. He didn’t have to hide anything - his beliefs, values, interests. And yet, it all felt dull and disconnected. He needed Jongin with him. 

* * *

Kyungsoo followed the two acquaintances he just made in his French class, Baekhyun and Johnny, outside for a smoke. The campus was located right next to the port, and it was a mere two minute walk to the sea. Baekhyun, Johnny and Kyungsoo huddled closely together around the ashtray placed neatly next to the main entrance of the building, struggling to turn on their cigarettes in the wind and drizzling rain. Kyungsoo cursed after miserably failing to light his, and just as he looked up to ask Baekhyun for help, his eyes locked with Chanyeol’s, who was just arriving on campus. Chanyeol looked right at Kyungsoo, held his gaze for a short minute, before turning away wordlessly and entering the building. 

“Who the fuck was that?” Johnny laughed, trying to relax Kyungsoo, who had unconsciously tensed up and was now clenching the lighter in his hands. 

“Ah, no one,” Kyungsoo scrambled, finally lighting his cigarette. Baekhyun and Johnny were discussing their remaining classes for today. Baekhyun was an economics major, and ostensibly excited to see Irene, a girl he knew was taking the same finance class as him. Baekhyun’s crush confused Kyungsoo; after all, how could he already have his eyes on someone in the first week? How was he able to just leave everyone behind and make new friends this easily? 

Baekhyun’s phone caught Kyungsoo off guard. It announced a new Facebook message, as Baekhyun read it to Kyungsoo and Johnny. It was about an arrangement called “Godparenting”; an older student was assigned to a freshmen to make the transition to life at college easier. 

“Godparents? What is that? Like a mentor?” Baekhyun mumbled as he read on. It was the list of arrangements. Johnny, too, pulled out his phone to check who his godparent was. 

“Let me see who I got… Maya? Do you guys know who that is?” Johnny asked, tossing his cigarette into the can next to him. Baekhyun was still busy scrolling through the list to find his name. 

“Oh, yeah. She’s in my major. You’ll like her a lot.” Kyungsoo said, looking for his name in the PDF document he opened on his phone. 

“Who’s yours, Kyungsoo?” 

Kyungsoo looked up from his phone, furrowing his brows. “Um, Taehyung? I don’t know who that is.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the president of the arts association, no? He’s majoring in fine arts if I remember correctly,” said Baekhyun, finally looking up from his phone. Kyungsoo’s brows furrowed even more as he tried to understand the criteria for a match. 

“Arts association? Why did they pair me up with him?”

Johnny laughed. “Probably because you’re both Korean. They tend to put people of the same nationality together.”

“Right.”

“I’m not even joking. Who do you have, Baek?”

“Seulgi.”

“See!”

Johnny laughed sheepishly and raised his hands defiantly. Kyungsoo smiled too, before tossing his cigarette. His class was about to start. He quickly said his goodbyes, before entering the building, on his way to his gender theory class. It was the class he was most excited about, and it made him a lot more comfortable to know that Sehun was in that class, too. At least someone he’d know. 

He pulled out a strip of gum and quickly put it in his mouth as he entered the classroom. He hated smelling like smoke, and he was insecure about making other students uncomfortable with the smell. Kyungsoo’s eyes roamed the room, discovering Sehun sitting next to someone in the second to last row. Sehun spotted him too, and shot him a genuine smile and a small wave. Kyungsoo walked over and took a seat in the row behind them. The class was slowly filling up, students from all backgrounds chatting and joking as they took their seats. One of them, a ginger guy, probably French, was talking loudly and condescendingly. 

“I’m not even sure what this course is supposed to be about,” Kyungsoo heard him say loudly. That guy was lucky the professor hadn’t arrived yet. Sehun and his desk mate ceased their conversation to listen to the obnoxious boy sitting across the room. 

“Gender theory? Spare me,” he continued, laughing sarcastically. “I’m only taking this class for easy credit. And it looks good on my resume.”

“Are you fucking serious right now, Antoine?” Sehun’s desk mate suddenly interjected, shifting in his seat. 

Antoine turned in his direction and gave him a mocking grin. “ Yuta, what’s your problem?”

“My problem is that people like you, privileged, male, straight, cisgender and white, love sticking their noses into disciplines only to make fun of them,” Sehun’s friend, now known as Yuta, retaliated. He ran his slender hands through his dyed blonde hair, obviously railed up by the mocking tone of the French student. Sehun was watching the scene unfold, frantically looking between Yuta and Antoine.

“People like you are the reason we study gender theory and how social norms arise,” Yuta continued, practically spitting his words at the other. 

“Yuta, bro, calm the fuck down. It’s really not that deep.”

Yuta jumped from his seat. Sehun looked back at Kyungsoo, his eyes wide and mouth open, almost as if to check if Kyungsoo was seeing this, too. Yuta walked over to Antoine’s desk, towering above the boy. Antoine tried to uphold a strong demeanor, though Kyungsoo could tell from all the way over there that he was turning red.

“But it is that deep,” Yuta hissed. “You’re gonna sit here telling me that gender theory is obsolete, when women are still oppressed? When trans people are still persecuted and discriminated against? Toxic masculinity is literally the breeding ground for conservative and oppressive structures. You prick. You moron. You are the reason this class exists.” 

Yuta stared him down for a few seconds, before turning away and walking back to his seat. Only now Kyungsoo realized how eerily quiet all the other students had gotten; the light-hearted chatter from a few moments ago had vanished completely. The air was tense, and it seemed that everyone was holding their breaths. 

“God, you’re even more annoying than last year,” Antoine mumbled, though loud enough for the whole class to hear.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Sehun inhaled sharply and shot Antoine a death glare. Antoine waved him off, and demonstratively grabbed his bag from the under the desk. 

“No, Sehun. Not today. Not on the first day of classes. I’m not doing this,” Yuta sighed, slightly petting Sehun on the arm. “If he doesn’t want to be here, if he thinks this class is below him, he can just leave. I’m here to learn and discuss, not listen to a white boy berate an entire academic discipline.” 

Sehun and Yuta’s gazes were pinned on Antoine, who got up from his chair and was walking out of the room. 

“Jesus Christ, fucking liberal,” Antoine said.

“Fuck you!”, Yuta yelled after him. “And I’m not a liberal, you fucking oppressor!” Antoine gave him one last look, before exiting and slamming the door to the classroom. A sigh of relief went through the room, and their classmates started laughing. Some of them were praising Yuta for sticking up to Antoine, but Yuta was not accepting the compliments. Kyungsoo could tell he did this because of his integrity, not for popularity. 

Kyungsoo never wanted to be someone’s friend as much as he did in this moment. He couldn’t wait to tell Jongin about this. 

* * *

After class, Kyungsoo filed out with Yuta and Sehun. He hoped he could talk to Yuta more now that class was over, but Yuta quickly excused himself and went straight to the library, leaving Kyungsoo and Sehun alone at the entrance. By second nature, Kyungsoo pulled out his pack of cigarettes. 

“Can I bum one?” Sehun asked, watching Kyungsoo light his. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you smoke. Here you go,” he says, before putting the pack away and shouldering his bag. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure if Sehun wanted him to stick around. “Well, I’ll be on my way, then,” Kyungsoo said, already starting to walk away and towards the bus stop. He had to call Jongin on the way home, anyway. “I have to make a call.”

“Hey, can it wait? Keep me some company!” Sehun said, holding Kyungsoo back by his arm. “I have to wait for Chanyeol. We need to go grocery shopping.”

Kyungsoo nodded, putting his phone away. “Ah, yes, sure.” 

“Who do you have to call? Your girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

Kyungsoo tensed up and he felt his face flush. Why did this happen every time he thought of Jongin? 

“Oh, no,” Kyungsoo said. “Just my friend.” He fidgeted with the lighter in his hand, avoiding Sehun’s gaze. 

“Okay. I always see you texting someone, so I figured maybe it’s a significant other.” Sehun said casually, taking a drag from his cigarette. Kyungsoo simply shook his hand and smiled. It was so much more complicated than that. Just as he was about to ask Sehun a superficial question about his day, two figures emerged from inside the building. He recognized one of them immediately.

“Smoking kills,” said Chanyeol, giving Sehun a disapproving look. 

Him and his friend stopped next to Sehun and Kyungsoo, forming a small circle. Kyungsoo was silently eyeing Chanyeol’s friend, trying to figure out why he seemed familiar to him. His hair was long, black and curly; it framed his face and made him look disheveled, but his clothes, beige, oversized suit jacket and turtleneck, made him look sophisticated and clean-cut. His posture was graceful and elegant, and Kyungsoo felt underdressed and childish.

Sehun let out a half-hearted laugh. “Get off my dick, Chanyeol. Your veins have more THC than white blood cells.” 

“Touché. Are we ready to go?” Chanyeol looked at Kyungsoo briefly, before focusing his attention on Sehun again. Suddenly, Kyungsoo realized who the other person was; it was Taehyung. He had seen his profile on Facebook. That must be his godparent, he concluded. 

“Let me finish this,” Sehun whined, earning a slight eye roll from Chanyeol. Taehyung was on his phone texting, and Chanyeol and Sehun were not speaking, causing yet another awkward silence to befall the group. Kyungsoo decided to try and overcome his shyness, and softly tapped on Taehyung’s shoulder. He looked up from his phone, an indecipherable look in his dark eyes. 

“Hey, I’m Kyungsoo, by the way. I think you might be my godparent?” Taehyung tilted his head slightly, before giving Chanyeol a confused look. As if on command, both of them burst out laughing suddenly. 

“Wait, you signed up to be a godparent?” Chanyeol choked out, looking at Taehyung before giving Kyungsoo an apologetic smile. Kyungsoo smiled back, a forced smile. Why did they laugh like that? 

“I don’t remember doing that. Well, uh, nice to meet you though,” Taehyung said, suppressing a smile and extending his hand. He was being theatrically polite, and even though he was joking and it probably wasn’t malicious, it made Kyungsoo feel like shit. He simply nodded and shook Taehyung’s hand. Sehun finished his cigarette just at this moment, smothered it under his shoe and gave Kyungsoo a pat on his shoulder. He simply smiled and waved at the other three guys as they started walking away from him. 

Kyungsoo felt awkward, intrusive and simply out of place. This was exactly what he always tried to avoid. It really never got easier. 

* * *

The first two weeks of classes went by monotonously, the excitement of living abroad and meeting new people wore off rather quickly for Kyungsoo. The people he hung out with were fun, but each of them lacked what Jongin had; none of them understood him in the same way as he did. Kyungsoo understood that he was ruining himself thinking this way; but he couldn’t help it. His mind was completely occupied by Jongin, he couldn’t sleep, eat, work without thinking of him. Kyungsoo felt his heart bleed at the distance between them. The only thing that helped him was writing his thoughts in a journal; it would be full poems at times, or just small phrases written in anguish and amid tears. 

One evening, when he was sitting on his bed writing his thoughts down with a glass of wine in his hand, he received a text from Ten, an acquaintance from his history class. 

>> _hey, are you coming to the bar?_

Kyungsoo didn’t even know there was a bar night happening. He replied with a bullshit excuse about having too much work and not wanting to be hungover for French tomorrow morning. Ironic, considering that half-empty bottle of red wine on his coffee table.

>> _okay. you should try and come out with us more_

Kyungsoo didn’t reply, watching the three dots indicating that Ten was typing in another message.

>> _we’re going to paris next weekend. you should join us_

Paris? Kyungsoo put his phone down in defeat, leaving Ten on read. He wished he could go to Paris with Jongin instead. The wine was taking its toll on Kyungsoo, alcohol once again impairing his rationality. He stared at his open laptop on the coffee table, and suddenly it struck him. He had to go back. He was aching, he needed to see Jongin. At least for a few days. He could afford to miss out on a few days of classes, he didn’t care. He didn’t mind. He had to go back.

Kyungsoo booked a flight back to Seoul for Monday in a week. And once his booking was confirmed, it was as if the giant boulder that had been weighing down his soul was finally lifted. He would see Jongin again, they would meet, and everything would be the same. They would sit at the river together, reading and talking and laughing to the point of tears. Suddenly, the sad words capturing his pain and longing that he wrote down a mere hour ago seemed silly to him; he was ecstatic, almost euphoric, at the thought of seeing his best friend again. Amidst this excitement, he picked up his phone, and agreed to go to Paris with his friends. 

* * *

Paris was a three-hour train ride away. Baekhyun, Johnny, Ten and Kyungsoo got on the earliest train on Saturday, arriving in Paris shortly before 11am. Their rented apartment was located right in the Second Arrondissement, close to the main sights. Kyungsoo liked Paris; at first glance, it was covered in a layer of arrogance, it seemed; but underneath it all, Paris was filled with artists, lovers, poets and storytellers. The people were beautiful, yet nonchalant about it. The architecture and the narrow streets, covered in cafes and restaurants, were his favorite; he could sit there for hours, coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other, watching people and observing their behavior. Of course, he liked the obvious sights of Paris; the Eiffel tower, the Trocadero, the Louvre - but he preferred the small alleys, the dark corners, where the true spirit of artistic freedom and mischievous youthfulness resided. 

After having spent the entire day sight-seeing and walking around breath-taking museums (during which Kyungsoo made sure to document everything so he could show Jongin later), they decided to go out. Baekhyun had sniffed out an underground techno club a bit outside the city center. Kyungsoo was excited to go; the thought of being in a run-down, dark and industrial building, with deep melodic techno echoing through his veins, bass dictating his heartbeats was mesmerizing. They started pregaming fairly early, resulting in all four of them being disproportionately drunk as they all tried to climb into the uber. 

“I am so glad you don’t have to talk to ubers,” Baekhyun slurred, “Imagine trying to explain this address.” He handed Kyungsoo his phone, pointing at the long and complicated name of the club.

“Uh, oui oui,” Kyungsoo mumbled, immediately breaking into a fit of laughter with Baekhyun. He was sitting between Baekhyun and Johnny, his body being squished, yet he felt safe and comfortable. They drove past the Champs Elysees, the street lights illuminating the beautiful boulevard and casting irregular patterns onto the inside of the car.

“That’s the Eiffel tower,” Johnny said statically, pointing out the window. Kyungsoo leaned across Johnny’s large body to see the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

“Correct.”

“Incredible,” Johnny whispered, earning a groan from Ten, who had been forced to take the driver's seat. 

“Really can’t fucking take you guys anywhere. You are so humiliating.” 

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo again broke into a laughing fit, and it was at this moment that Kyungsoo’s memory started to get blurry. He didn’t recollect how they got into the club (or, rather, he didn’t know how the bouncer even let these intoxicated messes inside), and once inside, he quickly found himself alone with Baekhyun and Ten. 

“Where is Johnny?” Kyungsoo yelled over the vibrating music. The deep, metronome bass of the music was pulsating in his veins; it felt as if the music was coming from inside of him. He couldn’t tell how many people were there, pushing and pulling, sweating and laughing and dancing under the neon spotlights. 

“He disappeared with this really hot girl, you know the one we saw with the red hair?” Baekhyun answered, leaning in closer to Kyungsoo’s ears. Kyungsoo nodded, despite definitely not knowing who he was talking about. He kept saying something else and motioning towards the bar at the back of the club, and before Kyungsoo could say anything, Baekhyun had already slipped away and started making his way across the dance floor. The alcohol from the pregame was now hitting him in full, vision blurry as Kyungsoo tried to unlock his phone to text Jongin. As he was about to hit send, someone took his phone and locked it. 

“Hey,” Ten pulled him away from the crowd and into a small side-room illuminated by blue lights, “What’s going on with you?” He handed Kyungsoo his phone. 

“I am so drunk,” Kyungsoo blabbered, slurring his words and giving Ten the cheekiest smile he could manage.

“No, I see that. I mean, in general? Something is wrong.”

And then, Kyungsoo broke. For the first time since being in France, he broke his shell, and told Ten everything. He told Ten how he first hated Jongin when they went on a soccer trip to Malaysia, but became inseparable six months later after getting ridiculously drunk at a mutual friend’s birthday. He told him how he introduced Jongin to classical literature and alternative rock, how he told him about different philosophies, and how they would spend hours at the river talking about their world views. Kyungsoo spared no detail, he told him the beautiful, the fond memories, but also the horrible ones that still stung him deeply, like when Jongin didn’t come to his graduation, or how he stopped reading his book recommendations. Kyungsoo told him about how much Jongin loved Joy Division, and how he could listen to Jongin talk about this band for hours on end, just looking at him with sparkles in his eyes. He told him how things starting changing this year between them, especially with his finishing high school and moving away. 

“I am just completely in love with him,” Kyungsoo finally sighed, admitting his feelings for the first time out loud. Nobody knew about this; Kyungsoo refused to tell any of his other friends of this, afraid of their reactions. Jongin would understand, if he weren’t the person he was so enamored with. 

Ten opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if trying to process everything. Kyungsoo pulled out his Camel Lights. 

“Well, does he know?” he asked carefully, helping Kyungsoo light his cigarette as he saw him struggling with the lighter. 

“No. And he will never know.”

“This doesn’t sound healthy, Kyungsoo. You can’t do this to yourself forever.” Kyungsoo nodded along, agreeing with Ten, but knowing that it wasn’t as easy as he made it out to be. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He typed in the code with clumsy fingers, and his heart dropped. A text from Jongin. 

“I feel so much love right now,” it read. Sent 22 minutes ago. It was 6am in Korea. What did this mean? Why was he sending him this at that time? His mind started racing. Maybe Kyungsoo had been wrong. Maybe Jongin did feel the same way, and he was killing himself the same way? Kyungsoo frantically started typing, not thinking, just allowing his fingers to type whatever words came into his mind. Just as he was about to send what was essentially a confession, his phone glitched, then turned off. His battery died. Helplessly, he looked around, looking up at Ten. He knew he would have to wait to get home before he could send the text.

“Well, it’s no use now. Let’s just enjoy the time.”

And so Kyungsoo did, increasing his visits to the bar and number of vodka sodas. He was dancing and moving his body without holding back to the aggressive beats of the techno songs, his pulse vibrating painfully through his body. He was getting drunk beyond apprehension, when suddenly someone yanked him by the shoulder. He could barely keep himself upright at this impact, and he whipped around to be met with a pair of familiar eyes. It was Chanyeol. Kyungsoo couldn’t believe it at first, his vision distorted. He subconsciously leaned in closer to Chanyeol to look at him, his eyes roaming every part of his face. Chanyeol’s eyes were weirdly dilated, even though the area around the bar was pretty well lit. 

“Kyungsoo? Is that you?” Chanyeol was holding Kyungsoo by the shoulders, when suddenly everything crashed. Kyungsoo’s vision tunneled, all he saw was Chanyeol, and all he heard in this dark and sinister club was Chanyeol’s husky voice talking to him. He was incapable of responding, and he felt himself sink to the floor.

“What the fuck?” he heard Chanyeol exclaim, and multiple hands come and lift him up and away from the crowd. He was in a weird state of consciousness; everything was a dream now, he couldn’t move his body, but he still heard voices. He was dipping in and out of consciousness when he shortly opened his eyes and found himself in the blue room again, sitting on the floor, now surrounded by Seulgi, Chanyeol and Sehun.

“What are you guys doing here?” Kyungsoo slurred, not talking to anyone in particular. 

“It’s a lucky coincidence!” Seulgi exclaimed, patting Kyungsoo on the back. She was whispering words of encouragement to him, while Chanyeol and Sehun were frantically discussing something on the side. 

“He needs an Uber,” Chanyeol said, looking down on Kyungsoo. He must have looked so small and miserable in this room, eyes barely open, voice breaking, words incoherent. 

“No, I’m fine,” Kyungsoo choked out, forcing himself to open his eyes fully. Again, he stared right into Chanyeol’s, wondering why the pupils were so big. 

“No, you’re not. Get him an Uber. Where are his friends?” He turned to Sehun, who was currently on the phone with someone. They stood around Kyungsoo for a while longer, Seulgi constantly handing him water from a small plastic cup. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Kyungsoo recognized Ten. 

“Hold on, I’m here. I got this. I’ll take him home,” he panted, before profusely thanking Chanyeol. 

“Okay. Watch out for him next time,” Chanyeol simply said, before walking out of the room without giving Kyungsoo another look. 

Kyungsoo remembers climbing into a Mercedes. And then nothing anymore. 


	3. track 3, love will tear us apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very sorry for being on hiatus these past few months, uni was beating my ass. gonna try and stay on top of this now though. thank you so much for reading.

The wind was mocking him, constantly blowing the annoyingly small droplets of rain into his face. He was cursing this grey city, and by the time he arrived on campus, he was completely soaked and spilling curses loudly. Why did it feel like he deserved a Monday like this, after his embarrassing black-out during the weekend? The only good thing about this weekend was that he never got to send that absolutely fatal text to Jongin in response to his rather cryptic message. He had yet to speak with Jongin about the ominous text he sent him; “I feel so much love right now”? It had occupied his mind all weekend. Not to mention his frail health after blacking out and his absolute state in front of Sehun and Chanyeol, who were always so cool and collected. He felt childish compared to them. 

He was just hoping that nobody would remind him of it. But he knew that such luxury was not reserved for him. As soon as he heard the voice, he clenched his jaw in embarrassment.

“Well, well. Who do we have here?” Sehun called out cheekily as he saw Kyungsoo approach the entrance of the university building. He smiled awkwardly, nodding along, not even trying to hide his embarrassment. 

Sehun grinned and tilted his head. “Have you recovered?”

“Yeah, sorry about that again. And thank you for taking care of me. I hope I didn’t ruin your night or anything.” Kyungsoo pulled out his pack of cigarettes and was struggling to find the lighter in his pocket. 

“No worries, it was pretty funny to see, if I’m honest,” Sehun laughed, offering his lighter to Kyungsoo. He accepted it gratefully and lit his cigarette, blowing the smoke out into the grey air. 

“Chanyeol was pretty worried about you afterward, though. You really didn’t seem fine.” 

Kyungsoo looked up at Sehun and raised his eyebrows. “Worried? Oh god, he shouldn’t have.” His heart felt strange in his chest. 

“No, it’s fine, don’t even stress about it. He’s just a caring guy, you know,” Sehun said as he put out his cigarette and shouldered his bag. 

“Well, in any case - I need to get to class. You take care, Kyungsoo,” Sehun called out to him as he entered the building, leaving Kyungsoo pondering alone outside in the rain.

* * *

He woke up, with a dry throat, burning eyes, and a debilitating headache. And yet, when he slowly saw the clouds clear up and expose the nearing runway of Incheon Airport, his heart palpitated. He choked back tears; it must have looked very strange to the passengers - after all, why was he crying? 

He couldn’t believe it was happening, he couldn’t believe he was about to see the boy he had been in love with for the last few years. Kyungsoo knew that they had so much to catch up on - even though it had only been a month and a half since they’d seen each other. 

* * *

“It’s so weird seeing you here. I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe you’re actually here.” Jongin looked at Kyungsoo, a genuine smile playing around his lips and his eyes bright. Kyungsoo’s heart clenched painfully at this; no matter how many times he looked at Jongin, he could never get used to him and his beauty. His heart was filled with bubbly, warm liquid, his entire body ecstatic, his mind occupied only by this moment. There was nothing he cared about right now, not the classes he was missing, not his friends back in France, not even his family. This was all that mattered. 

“Me neither. I am so happy to be here. To be here with you,” Kyungsoo said. If only Jongin knew how much he had truly missed him. There were no words to describe the yearning he had felt. 

They talked for hours on end, and they sat by the river in their usual spot. It felt the same. It was as if Kyungsoo had never left. Oh, what he would give to live in this feeling forever - safe and comfortable, watching the sunset over the Han, bathing in this glowy light. 

Kyungsoo sighed. He was telling Jongin all about France. “It just doesn’t feel the same over there, you know? I still feel like myself, but something is missing.”

“Well, what did you expect? Clearly that’s gonna happen if you move half-way across the world. That’s not a bad thing, though; you need to be open for it,” Jongin said, shrugging. 

“But everything is so different now.”

“Of course it is. You have to allow it.” 

It hurt that Jongin seemed to have come to terms with this new way of things before Kyungsoo did. Why was it so easy for him to say that? Was he not struggling with adjusting to this? He realized that talking about this would only make him sadder, so he switched topics. 

“I try to. By the way, I brought you a gift.” He pulled out a silver cigarette case that he had bought at a flea market in Paris. It bore the engraved image of the goddess Venus emerging from the sea. In addition to that, he had also brought a bottle of wine. 

Jongin took his time examining the intricate cigarette case. “This is beautiful, Kyungsoo, thank you,” he said sincerely, smiling so deeply that creases formed around his eyes. “And wine? Well, aren’t you my little French boy.”

“Hey, I’m still older than you.”

“Yeah, but you’re shorter. Petit prince.” Jongin proceeded to move his cigarettes from the flimsy paper pack to the new silver case. Kyungsoo was watching him from the side as Jongin dedicated his entire attention to this arbitrary task. All Kyungsoo could think was how beautiful he was, sitting there, knees drawn up, corduroy jacket hugging his frame, dark hair moving with the wind ever so slightly. 

Kyungsoo felt like the happiest person in the world to have such a best friend. He didn’t even dare imagine how happy he could be if Jongin thought of him as something other than a friend. 

Kyungsoo sat back, listening to the music from Jongin’s speakers. He was playing a song by Tears for Fears. And as he listened to this song and watched Jongin light yet another cigarette, he thought about how much it would hurt if this friendship ever ended. Kyungsoo wouldn’t be able to survive such pain, that’s for sure.

* * *

“Do you want to watch a film?” Jongin asked, roaming his shelf stacked with DVDs. 

Kyungsoo laughed in disbelief. “A _film?”_

“Well, yes,” Jongin said, raising his eyebrow in confusion. Kyungsoo shook his head.

“A movie. You pretentious fuck.”

Jongin rolled his eyes and playfully shoved Kyungsoo away from him. They were in Jongin’s room; it had gotten cold down by the river, so they retreated to Jongin’s apartment not far from there. His parents, both diplomats, were out of the house as per usual. 

“I respect the art form, Kyungsoo, maybe if you watched any _films_ other than all this mainstream trash, you could also appreciate cinema for what it is.” 

Kyungsoo wanted to tell Jongin that he was actually taking a class on European cinema. But he didn’t. “You really haven’t changed,” he said instead.

Jongin scoffed playfully. “Neither have you!” 

Kyungsoo looked at Jongin, really digesting what he just said. He hadn’t changed? Was that not all he had been trying to do? Jongin looked up at Kyungsoo and gave him a playful smile. 

“So, what do you want to watch?” Jongin diverted the question back to its roots. 

Kyungsoo shrugged optimistically. “Whatever you want.”

* * *

Jongin sat close to Kyungsoo, closer than they usually ever sat. Immediately, Kyungsoo’s heart rate increased. Jongin had put on a French movie, one that Kyungsoo couldn’t pronounce. He didn’t know why it had to be a French movie. He was getting sick of everything around him being in French. He didn’t complain, though. 

They were about half-way through the movie when Kyungsoo noticed that Jongin was trying to move even closer. What was going on? His blood was pounding like a drum in his ears, his attention no longer focused on the movie before him. He kept his head straight, though his eyes were not focusing on the cinematic experience. Was Jongin looking at him? He could feel his eyes on him, though his senses could be deceiving him. Kyungsoo was too scared to turn, too scared to face Jongin right now. 

“Do you like the movie?” Jongin whispered suddenly, and Kyungsoo’s eye twitched. 

“So now it’s a movie again?” Kyungsoo teased quietly, finally turning his head to the left. Jongin’s face was closer than it had ever been and his breath got caught in his throat.

“Oh, fuck you,” Jongin exhaled and smiled at him. 

Something snapped in Kyungsoo. His face was so close. He didn’t even have to do much…

Kyungsoo leaned in, his mind fogged up with the scent of Jongin’s cologne. Somehow, he found Jongin’s lips, warm, comforting and soft, and there he stayed for a moment. Jongin didn’t move, his body frozen in place. 

Kyungsoo tore open his eyes and realized what just happened. He jerked up and moved away from Jongin, breathing heavy and avoiding eye contact. His mind was racing. What the hell had he just done? Why did he just lean in? He had ruined it all, he had fucking destroyed the most valuable thing he had, as always, he fucking broke it, spoiled it all. He turned his face back to the movie in front of him, his mind filled with a static sound. Maybe if he acted like nothing happened … 

Jongin blinked in disbelief, his expression indecipherable. “Kyungsoo. What the fuck?”

Kyungsoo turned away, his eyes widened in terror, and his body paralyzed. His heart stopped beating, and he felt like he was about to throw up. He couldn’t think, his mind was filled with self-loathing and hopelessness. 

“I’m … I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo got up, his eyes glued to the ground, avoiding Jongin’s. 

“Why did you do that?” Jongin’s voice was shaky, and he stood up next to Kyungsoo, trying to grab his arm to make him look at him. 

Kyungsoo moved away from Jongin; he didn’t want to touch him, he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable. “I-I don’t know. Jongin, I’m sorry. I need to leave. I am so sorry.” He scrambled to find any coherent words right now, his body shaking uncontrollably. He felt a panic attack creep up on him. Kyungsoo stumbled out of Jongin’s room, and started looking for his shoes in the hallway. 

Jongin shook his head violently and followed Kyungsoo. “What? You can’t leave, Kyungsoo, wait.” He turned on the light in the hallway. Kyungsoo was pale. 

Kyungsoo was murmuring incoherent words of hurried apology as he scrambled to collect his things. There was no way he could stay. “No, Jongin, it’s past 1am. My parents are going to be mad.”

“You are literally an adult, your parents will be fine.” Jongin raised his voice. 

“I can’t. I can’t,” Kyungsoo kept stammering, tears pooling in his eyes. His entire body was trembling, his motor skills failing him terribly. He wasn’t thinking clearly, all notions of rationality abandoned him. He managed to shoulder his bag and open the front door. He turned back to Jongin.

“Goodbye, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, looking up at Jongin for the final time. 

Jongin held on to the door. “No, what the fuck? Stay the night, at least. It’s so late. We can talk about this, please, what are you doing?” He was practically pleading, and Kyungsoo didn’t know why he didn’t just stay. Something in him didn’t allow him to stay. He couldn’t stay, he couldn’t endure to talk to Jongin anymore, knowing he had just ruined everything. Kyungsoo felt ashamed, stupid, and childish. He should have never come back. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon.”

Kyungsoo snatched his shoes up from the floor and closed the apartment door behind him. He ran barefoot through the hallway until he finally exited Jongin’s apartment building, finally putting on his shoes outside. He didn’t comprehend what was going on. He didn’t know why he just did that. He tied the shoelaces of his worn out converses and continued running down the street until he reached the bus stop. The subway had already stopped running, and the next bus was set to come in 20 minutes. 

He sat down at the bus stop, finally catching his breath, thousands of thoughts running through his mind. What the fuck did he do?

Kyungsoo couldn’t stand to look at his reflection in the glass walls of the bus stop, so he sat there, staring blankly at the dimly lit street in front of him. 

As he got on the bus, he unlocked his phone. Secretly, he had hoped to see a text from Jongin. There was nothing. He didn’t remember how he got home, or how he got undressed and into his bed. He only remembers crying violently into his pillow until the early hours of the day. 

* * *

The remaining days in his hometown Kyungsoo spent alone in his parents’ apartment. They didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with him - but then again, they never did. On his second-to-last day, Kyungsoo felt sick - not physically, but rather mentally. He felt like he couldn’t stand himself, felt suffocated in his own body, and he needed to get out. Get out in its literal sense, and perhaps in a more metaphorical way, too. 

So he downloaded Tinder. And it didn’t take long for him to arrange a date an hour from then. He took the first-best match, anything that could distract him from Jongin. Anything that could make him feel differently. Anything was better than this. 

So it happened that he found himself kissing that random guy in a dark, grimey alley behind a bar in Hongdae. He was groping Kyungsoo while kissing his neck, and it only made Kyungsoo sadder. He felt his throat close up and his heart pound against his ribcage. 

“Stop,” he breathed into the stranger’s ear, “stop right now.” He pushed him off.

“What’s wrong with you? You were the one who wanted to meet?” the stranger retaliated, glancing at Kyungsoo with obvious annoyance. Kyungsoo didn’t care. It felt wrong, and he would no longer endure it.

“I’m sorry. I need to leave.” Kyungsoo pushed the stranger out of his way and stumbled up the alley. He didn’t even reach the main street before the tears started spilling again. There was nothing he could do anymore. He had fucked up so bad, and tomorrow he would have to go back to France and pretend to be okay again. And for the first time he realized that he had to learn to live without Jongin. That thought was like a punch in his throat. 

He was right, nothing could hurt more than this. 

The next day, his flight back to France was a fever dream to him; he spent half of it crying silently into his hoodie, and the other half sleeping from extreme exhaustion. Kyungsoo arrived at his apartment in France exactly 7 days after he saw Jongin for the last time. 

* * *

_Love, love will tear us apart …_

“Hey? Are you okay?” 

Kyungsoo looked up and was met with a pair of familiar eyes. He quickly took out the earphones playing Joy Division. 

“Oh, yeah. Just tired,” Kyungsoo stammered and tried to smile at Chanyeol. He could probably tell that ‘tired’ was a horrible understatement. His puffy face and dark circles made him look like a liar. 

Chanyeol laughed half-heartedly. “Whenever I talk to you, you’re always tired.”

“Well,” Kyungsoo sighed, ashing the cigarette in his hand. A quick look at his phone confirmed that he still had 8 minutes to get to his next class. He felt bad for not saying much, but he hoped Chanyeol could forgive him. 

“It’s been a while. Did you recover well after that time in Paris?” Chanyeol continued, tilting his head to look at Kyungsoo. 

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you, by the way. For taking care of me.”

Kyungsoo had almost forgotten about that fiasco of a night. Everything seemed so irrelevant compared to what happened in Seoul. 

Chanyeol waved his arms in defense. “Don’t thank me, I barely did anything. You’re lucky to have friends like Ten and Baekhyun.” 

“I really am… By the way, I meant to ask you that night.”

“Hm?”

“Your pupils were… weirdly big that night.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol exhaled, smiling cheekily, “don’t worry about that. Maybe one day I’ll show you what it was” he said. “I hope you get better though. Really. Whatever is bothering you, I hope it goes away soon.”

“I think that’s so much easier said than done, though.”

“Well. Then you have to make it go away. By force, if need be. Can’t let things haunt you your entire life, you know? Whatever it is, let it go.” 

Kyungsoo looked up at Chanyeol, his mind empty. His head felt heavy suddenly.

“Thank you for the advice, Chanyeol. It means a lot.”

That evening in his apartment, he thought about Chanyeol’s words. And he truly did believe that it was good advice. It’s just that right now, he was nowhere near strong enough to implement it. Every waking thought, every nightmare, everything was about Jongin. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, because everything was about him. 

He stopped sleeping properly in fear of the nightmares. His headaches worsened from the daily crying, his eyes constantly sensitive, burning and puffy. Cigarette butts piling up in his make-shift ashtray, bottles of wine collecting at the end of his bed.

He felt fucking pathetic. He had ruined the only good thing in his life. 

A single call, a single text could change it all. Could make it better. But the fact that Jongin never reached out made him believe that perhaps he deserved to be feeling this way. Because, after all, he had thrown out years of a beautiful, perfect friendship. 

He fucking hated himself. 

Kyungsoo wrote a lot of letters during this time. All of them by hand, of course, and he started each one with the true belief that this would be the one he sends to Jongin. Each of them started with an apology and ended with a declaration of love. Looking back, those letters were probably more for Kyungsoo than for Jongin. Make-shift therapy, in a strange sense. 

He never did once send any of the letters. And so he went days, weeks, and eventually months without hearing from Jongin. And with every day that passed without talking to him, his heart felt heavier and his soul more somber.

* * *

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun sat on a little bench in the campus common room, sipping on cups of coffee and sharing a bag of chips. 

“I should’ve dropped this fucking class when I still had the chance to. I sit next to Irene, too; you know how fucking humiliating it is to sit next to such a beautiful person and having to ask her for the answers?” Baekhyun vented. He had just gotten out of econometrics class. 

Kyungsoo was deep in thought. It had been 3 weeks exactly since the Jongin affair. They still hadn’t talked.

“I can imagine,” he mumbled, his mind absent, not caring much for neither econometrics nor Irene. 

“Now I look like a fucking moron to her. Blew my chance,” Baekhyn said, sighing dramatically. “Can I bum a cigarette, Darling Ksoo?” 

Kyungsoo nodded silently and motioned Baekhyun to stand up to go outside for a smoke. As they approached the exit, they spotted Taehyung and Chanyeol outside. Taehyung had been a lot nicer to Kyungsoo ever since their first interaction - always greeting him whenever they crossed paths on campus, at least, but it was never more than this polite courtesy. Kyungsoo also made a note that he saw Chanyeol a lot recently - had he started coming to campus more frequently? Or was he just outside more often?

“Hello, gentlemen," Taehyung mused as Baekhyung and Kyungsoo joined them next to the ashtray. 

Baekhyun smiled brightly at the two sophomores. “Oh, hey, how are you guys?”

“We’re okay," Chanyeol replied before turning to Kyungsoo. "Still tired?”

Kyungsoo nodded, quietly murmuring. “Yeah. Midterms, you know.”

“Right, of course.” Chanyeol didn't sound convinced, but he was polite enough to not enquire further. Kyungsoo also noticed that Chanyeol was always next to the ashtrays, but he never saw him smoke. 

“What’s your next midterm?” Taehyung inquired curiously, brushing a strand of hair out his face with his elegant, tender hand. Kyungsoo quickly looked at the floor, taken aback by this handsome gesture. 

“Uh, it’s just for my cinema class. Next week.” 

Taehyung clapped his hands like an excited child. “Oh, cinema! That was my favorite class freshman year. I can send you my notes from last year if you want,” he offered.

Kyungsoo looked up, true gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you, yes, that would be great.”

Taehyung handed him his phone so Kyungsoo could add his email, as Chanyeol turned to Baekhyun. “Are you guys doing anything tonight?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Probably just getting drunk together.”

“Perfect, so do you guys wanna come to our party tonight?” Chanyeol smiled at the two freshmen, waving his hand through the thick cloud of smoke that Taehyung had just blown out. 

“Sure, what’s the occasion?” 

Chanyeol and Taehyung burst into fits of laughter. “Oh, it’s just Sehun gatsbying, really," Chanyeol elaborated once he had calmed down. "There’s this guy he really likes, so we’re throwing a party. I don’t mind it - it’ll be fun."

“Well, good luck to him then! We’ll come to support him," Baekhyun said, just as excited as Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol nodded approvingly, before turning away with Taehyung. “Great! I’ll see you tonight at my place then. I hope you remember how to get there!"

* * *

“Okay, for the pregame, we have two bottles of vodka, and for the party, we have two bottles of Tequila, mixers, and a bottle of sparkling wine. That’s, what? Roughly one bottle per person? Is that enough, or do we need to bring more?” Johnny said out loud, counting the bottles they had just all placed on Kyungsoo’s coffee table. 

“I think that’s fine,” Ten added, nodding along. “Sehun and Chanyeol are so nice for inviting us to their party. I don’t even know why they do,” he laughed. 

“What the fuck does that mean? Why wouldn’t they invite us? We’re arguably the most fun freshmen,” Baekhyun shouted. “But I agree. They are very nice. I don’t think a lot of other freshmen are going.”

Kyungsoo agreed with Ten. He didn’t understand why Chanyeol in particular was being so nice to him. He seemed to really care about him - but _why_? 

“Anyway, we need to start pregaming. It’s 9 now, the party starts at 11, so we need to be there at midnight. And I expect all of us to be smashed by the time we reach that apartment. Ksoo, do you remember how to get to their place?”

“Not exactly, I know they live close to the park behind the courthouse.”

“Can you ask for an address?” Kyungsoo nodded, pulling out his phone to text Chanyeol. It was weird opening a new message thread; they had never texted before. 

>> _hey, could you send me your address?_

Chanyeol replied almost immediately. 

_ >> so you don’t remember how to get to my place. i'm hurt. it's 34 rue voltaire. _

Kyungsoo was smiling at his phone as he copied the address Chanyeol had just sent him. He didn’t realize that all his friends noticed, though. 

“What are we smiling about, Mister Do?” Ten asked, trying to catch a glimpse of Kyungsoo's phone. 

Kyungsoo pushed him away softly. “Nothing, just saw a meme. Sorry, I just sent you the address.” 

Baekhyun and Ten exchanged meaningful looks. “Thanks. Let’s go over our goals for tonight, do a bit of self-reflection," Baekhyun announced as he poured vodka and orange juice into a cup. 

“Alright?” 

Baekhyun cleared his throat. “I’ll start. My goal tonight is to black out completely and then make out with whoever wants to.”

“Sounds great, Baekhyun," Johnny laughed, taking sips from his cup of vodka soda. 

“Your turn, Johnny.”

“Well, my goal is to meet some more people and have some good conversations. I don’t really feel like hooking up with anyone tonight," he said after taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Obviously satisfied with his answer, he looked up at the other three boys. 

Ten nodded in approval. “I like it, very mature. My goal is the same as Baekhyun’s.”

Baekhyun widened his eyes and a sheepish smile crept onto his face. “The way it’s looking we’ll be making out with each other, then.”

Ten giggled and playfully threw a bottle cap at Baekhyun. “Oh, stop it you. You’re making me blush.” 

Baekhyun blew him a kiss from across the coffee table, before turning away. “What about you, Ksoo?”

Kyungsoo sighed. He honestly didn't even feel like partying. But it was a good way to distract himself. “Oh, I don’t know. I think my goal is to not drunk-text anyone.”

“Just anyone? Or someone in particular.”

He cringed in defeat, the feeling of saying his name always causing him to shudder slightly. “Fine. My goal is to not drunk-text Jongin.”

“Good. Good! Self-aware king,” Ten said, giving Kyungsoo a pat on his back. “Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s pretty much it.” 

“Alright. Now put on Memories by David Guetta, it’s time to get lit," Baekhyun said as he lit another cigarette. 

“Oh, good grief,” Kyungsoo sighed as he reached to turn on the bluetooth speakers. 

* * *

>> _are you coming?_

A notification from Chanyeol lit up his phone screen. It was 11:26. He looked at Baekhyun and Ten, who were both currently rapping along to a Nicki Minaj song. There as no way they would be there at midnight. And why was Chanyeol so eager? Kyungsoo was confused, and the alcohol wasn't helping at all - it seemed that they all fulfilled Baekhyun's command of being smashed by midnight perfectly. Somehow, Kyungsoo managed to type out an answer and send it. 

_ >> soon! _

* * *

They arrived at the apartment at 12:32. The party could be heard from the outside, yet somehow, somebody heard them ringing the doorbell. They were greeted by a very drunk Sehun, an unfamiliar guy and the familiar Mao Zedong poster behind them.

"Ksoooooo!" Sehun mused, hugging him tightly. "It's so nice to see you. Have you met Junmyeon yet?" Sehun beamed as he gestured at the guy next to him. Junmyeon smiled shyly and looked up at Sehun in adoration. 

"Nice to meet you!" Kyungsoo exclaimed and exchanged a quick glance with Baekhyun to confirm whether he thought the same. They agreed telepathically: this was the Daisy Buchanan Chanyeol had mentioned. 

The party was already in full commotion, dancing bodies filling every empty inch of the small student apartment. The playlist was, as always at this apartment, immaculate; a carefully selected mix of early 2010s music vibrated in the air. Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, Ten and Johnny quickly assimilated into the crowd, dancing, singing and constantly pouring each other drinks. For the first time in weeks, Kyungsoo caught a break from his constant thoughts of Jongin, though they didn't fully vanish. They were always there, buried deep in the back of his mind, waiting for him to get vulnerable again. 

For now, it didn't matter, though. Kyungsoo was looking around the living room, searching for the silver-haired giant he was so excited to see tonight. After all, he had urged him to come, but now, Chanyeol was nowhere to be found. Kyungsoo stayed on the look-out, checked the kitchen, before deciding that he needed a smoke. Suddenly he remembered the balcony. Chanyeol was probably smoking a joint outside!

Kyungsoo carefully pushed his way through the tight crowd and reached the balcony door that was covered in perspiration from the sweating bodies inside. He shuddered in disgust as he had to touch the door handle, though he didn't care. He was hoping to see Chanyeol out there. His smile widened at the thought of seeing the calm, wise sophomore again. As he opened the door, he saw the people outside.

Indeed, Chanyeol was there. Not alone, though. 

The all-too-common feeling of being wrong spread throughout his body. It seemed as though this feeling of misunderstanding, of not being enough, of never being anyone’s first choice, it was as though this feeling was made for Kyungsoo specifically. Whenever he felt this way, it didn’t come as a surprise anymore. It was a painful, habitual occurrence; and every time it happened, his hatred for himself and for what he was accelerated and made living almost unbearable. 

Looking at Chanyeol and Seulgi kiss evoked that exact feeling again. He had misread Chanyeol’s simple courtesy for something else, mistook his friendly manners for being interested in him. He wanted to fucking break something. He didn’t even understand why the sight of them making out infuriated him in such a way; he didn’t have a crush on Chanyeol or anything like that. It angered him because it embarrassed him; how could he have even dared to think that Chanyeol could be interested in him? He felt ashamed, out of place, and just tired. Seulgi was sitting on Chanyeol's lap, and both were far too busy to even look up at Kyungsoo. It was better that way. He slammed the door shut again and fought his way back inside. 

“Hey, you okay there?” he heard somebody (Taehyung?) call after him as he rushed out of the living room. 

“I am fucking fine, thank you for asking,” Kyungsoo yelled back at nobody in particular, before opening the front door and disappearing into the cold night. He walked home, without checking his phone, without telling his friends. He was furious at himself, the feeling of self-loathing consuming him to the point of insanity. He felt so fucking pathetic. 

Once he got to his apartment, he broke down in tears again. This was a recurring image in these past months. Everything seemed to fall apart. Everything he had worked so hard on for months, all ruined. He ruined his friendship with Jongin, and now he was about to ruin his friendships here. Everything good in his life he ruined. His mental stability, his well-being, all gone. All his hard work for nothing. He didn’t know what to do; a cloud of anxiety hovering above him, incapacitating him completely, paralyzing his mind and soul. Was he going to spend his entire life feeling this way? 

He sat down on his bed, the cups from the pregame lying on the floor next to it. He sighed deeply, tears streaming down his face as he thought of Jongin. He would know what to do. He would know what to say. But he didn't have Jongin anymore. And if he didn't have Jongin, he had nobody. 

That night, he texted Jongin for the first time since he kissed him. It was a message filled with rage, sorrow, loathing, and so much pure, intoxicating love. He didn't even proofread. 

_ >> hey jongin. i know you dont want to talk to me and i honestly dont need an answer from you, i just need you to know this. i’m sorry for how things turned out. i’m sorry for what i did. I ruined everything, and i dont expect you to forgive me. I cant even forgive myself. you cant even imagine how much i regret what i did, and i hate myself that i cant un-do it. and i hate myself that i tried to change you, too, i am sorry that i keep projecting onto you. i only ever wanted the best for you. i am so fucking sorry, i need you to know that. I just hope you are doing okay, and i want you to know that i miss you terribly. _


End file.
